2. Liam

The room is empty when I get inside. While I can tell my roommate has been here, it looks like he dumped his shit and ran. Fine by me. With any luck he'll be out until tomorrow.

I get to work unpacking, which doesn't take long since I only have clothes and school supplies, nothing to personalize the place. Since no one bothered to take me shopping to get anything, I've got only what I already had, right down to the comforter I've been using for years. I naively assumed the lack of a pre-departure shopping trip meant I'd get that stuff here instead of having to lug it with me.

I was wrong.

Oh well. It's just a room. A place to sleep. Who cares if I don't have posters on the walls or pictures on my desk. There's nothing from home I want to be reminded of at the moment. Especially not the people who couldn't care enough to show up today.

I sling my bag on the unclaimed bed and start pulling out my clothes, grateful to find there are already hangers in the closet.

Of all the days my parents could've picked to forget my existence, today is the worst. I don't know why I expected them to think about me when they haven't in over a year, but I was honestly shocked when I woke up to find them gone, especially since my dad was supposed to drive me here.

Waking up to a quiet house is nothing new, which is why I went to great lengths to ensure today would be different. I posted a note on the fridge, circled the date on the paper calendar in my dad's office, and sent them both text reminders. There's no way they should've been oblivious to the fact I was moving to campus today. Yet, like every other day, they were nowhere to be found when I woke up.

Typically, that means my dad is at work and my mom is sleeping, but this morning even her car was gone. The woman barely leaves her bedroom anymore, but today she was gone before nine—go figure. I waited close to two hours, hoping they were just delayed, but no one ever came home much less answered my texts.

Unfortunately, that too is normal.

If it's not work-related, my dad is prone to ignoring any attempt to reach him. And my mom…lets just say the house could be burning down and she wouldn't notice. I was always good at fending for myself, but this past year took independence to a whole new level. That's why I planned ahead and took every opportunity available to remind them I'd be headed to school today. I should've known it'd be in vain.

When it was clear they weren't coming, I packed my car and got on the road. I still have no idea what I'm going to do with my car, seeing as it's not supposed to be on campus in the first place, but I had limited alternatives this morning. Hopefully, I can get a pass somehow.

Once my meager belongings are put away I head down to the front desk to see where I can park, trying not to notice the families hugging and sharing teary goodbyes, which will only make me even more bitter. It's not their fault my parents couldn't be bothered to help me move in or see me off. Have they even realized I'm gone?

"Name?" a woman asks as I approach.

"Harrington. Liam."

"William?" She looks up at me.

"Yeah." I feel myself deflate at the mention of my full name. My father's name.

My body hums with pent up anger as she looks me up, and I do my best not to scowl. William. I used to think that name was an honor. Now, not so much. Thank God I have access to the bank account so I could pay my tuition, otherwise this lady would probably tell me I'm homeless.

"How can I help you?" she asks.

"I had to drive here unexpectedly. Any way to get a parking pass or something?"

"You can have a temporary one for the weekend, but you'll need to talk to the bursar's office for something permanent." She hands me a slip to put on the dash and waves to the next person. I guess we're done here.

I keep my head down as I navigate the hall back to my room, knowing I'm not in the right headspace for pleasantries. Eventually I hope I will be—I want to like it here—but my emotions are too raw right now.

Thanks Mom and Dad.

I'm so pissed at them for leaving me to my own devices that a part of me wants to write them off the same way they've done to me. I just can't bring myself to do it. Aside from the fact I'm relying on them to pay for school, deep down I know why they are the way they are, and that keeps me from ever following through. Keeps me from hating them as much as I want to.

It's an endless cycle–my anger boiling until I'm ready to lash out only for the guilt to set in. After repeating this pattern for the entire drive, I'm fucking exhausted. Mentally. Physically, I'm kind of wired.

Once back in my room I realize there's no food, and I haven't eaten in hours, so I decide to try and hunt something down. Of course, the dining hall is closed, so I grab a few bags of chips from the vending machine, and in an effort not to be as pathetic as I feel, I wander around instead of sitting alone in my room.

The large field closest to my dorm has clusters of people doing all sorts of shit. Tossing a frisbee, playing guitars, or just sitting around talking. I'm assuming these are people who knew each other before they got here, because I don't know how they'd have found common interests so quickly otherwise.

That's one thing I'm not bitter about at all—the absence of familiar faces. I'd never see anyone from high school again if I had my way.

I spot a few groups of people in twos and threes walking toward what I think is the street with all the Greek houses, if I remember right from the tour I did last year. With nothing better to do, I fall into step behind them, hoping they might lead to something more interesting than frisbee. I'm proven right when they approach a house that has people with red solo cups spilling off the front porch onto the lawn.

Normally, I wouldn't consider this my scene. Maybe in high school I would've, but that time has passed. Now, I'd rather avoid house parties and cliques that shun people because of their differences. But it's my first night here and no one knows who I am, so I might as well take advantage.

As I get to the door a guy about my size steps in front of me and puts his palm on my chest. "You with the football team?"

"No." My nose wrinkles before I can stop it.

"You got something against football?"

"I prefer lacrosse."

"Lacrosse, huh?" He gives me a once over.

His eyes seem to linger on my torso just a fraction too long. So, I take my own tour. Tall, broad shoulders, brown eyes and auburn hair that curls at the ends, stopping just above his eyes. Not bad.

He gives a sharp jerk of his chin, drawing my attention back to his face. "The only freshman I'm supposed to let in are on the football team with my brother Bennet, but I like your opinion about it."

The corner of my mouth tries to tick upward, an unfamiliar but not unwelcome gesture. Yeah, he's kinda cute. "I didn't give you my opinion. And how do you know I'm a freshman?"

The guy arches a brow, and I lift both mine. Then his features suddenly relax into a coy smirk as he barks out a laugh. "You've got a pair on you. Come on, let's get you a beer."

"So, your brother plays football?" I ask as we weave through the crowd.

"Fraternity brother," he says with a chuckle.

"Yeah, that's what I meant." I fib as we get to the keg, saying a silent thank you that I've never been one to blush easily. "Seriously, how'd you know I'm a freshman?" I take the cup he offers me.

"It's in the eyes. You're taking everything in like it's the first time you've seen it."

"I didn't realize I was that transparent." I sip my beer.

"You weren't really, but I was paying attention." He winks at me, and my stomach does a little flip.

After my disastrous outing last year, and subsequent shunning from my friends, I haven't so much as looked at another guy, or allowed myself to notice if one was looking at me. It's…nice.

"Aiden." He extends his hand.

"Liam." I take it.

"So, you thinking of rushing our frat?" His fingers slide over mine as he pulls his hand back.

"They accept guys like…us?"

Aiden throws his head back with a hearty laugh. "Haven't you heard? Sexual experimentation is in. Plus, this is a pretty liberal campus."

"Good to know." I'd gotten that impression when I toured it, but after the last year it's hard to take acceptance at face value. "I haven't thought much about fraternities. Honestly, I don't even know what frat this is. I followed the crowd."

"It's Sigma Rho." He grins proudly.

"I'm sorry, but I have no idea what that means."

"It's like lacrosse, lesser known than football but way cooler."

Now it's my turn to laugh, something I don't think I've done in… God, I can't even remember when. I almost don't recognize it. Come to think of it, I barely recognize the burn in my cheeks, although I'm pretty sure that's because I haven't smiled in ages either, and they're atrophied, not overused.

"You wouldn't be biased, would you?" I ask.

"Me?" Aiden points to his chest. "Never. Come on, I'll show you around."

I follow as Aiden leads me through the house, showing me the common areas, the bedrooms—which he doesn't try to corner me in—and back to the kitchen for another beer. We don't see the chapter room because apparently that's off limits unless you're a member, and I don't mind. While I enjoy my tour and meeting all Aiden's friends, I'm not sure I enjoy it to the level of wanting to sign up. It's something to consider though, if I decide Greek life is what I want.

"Are parties always this popular?" I pull my shirt away from my body to get some air on my skin, hoping the thin sheen of sweat I feel isn't noticeable.

"Yeah, pretty much." Aiden gives me a bashful smile. "Want to head out back? It'll be a lot cooler."

"Lead the way."

We weave through the tightly packed crowd until we get to the patio door, and while it's too early for the air to be considered cold, it's definitely cooler at this altitude without the sun. I shiver involuntarily.

"Cold?" Aiden asks.

"Nah, it's just a bit of a shock after being inside. It feels good, though. I'm surprised there aren't more people out here." I look around, noting only a few people on the scattered lawn furniture, and most of them are either making out or look like they will be any second.

Aiden follows my gaze, giving me another bashful smile. "Yeah, it sort of turns into Make Out Point after enough beers. That's not why I suggested coming out here, though."

"So, you aren't interested?" Oh shit, did I just imply I want to hook up? I totally did. I guess that wouldn't be the worst way to end the evening considering it's been ages since I've even kissed another guy, let alone felt the hard press of another shaft sliding along mine.

"I didn't say that." Aiden bites his lip suggestively, and my long-neglected cock takes notice, eager for something other than my hand to bring it relief.

"Good."

Aiden doesn't ask me to elaborate, just takes my hand and guides me to a nearby tree. It's big enough to offer some semblance of privacy and support my weight when he presses me against it, crashing our mouths together.

For a nice guy, Aiden's a pretty aggressive kisser, and since I'm so desperate for touch, any kind of touch really, I don't care. Lips and teeth and tongues war for dominance as we rut against each other, our rigid erections coming together with such urgency there's a tiny twinge of discomfort from my zipper amid the pleasure. But I'm too full of lust to stop.

A soft, guttural moan rumbles up my throat as I savor the friction on my shaft, which Aiden takes as an invitation for more. His eager fingers undo my pants, freeing my cock, and I mirror his movements so that I can feel him against me.

As we slide along each other, a warm hand dips between my legs and cups my sac, squeezing and tugging. My sharp inhale morphs into a contented sigh, and Aiden smiles against my lips. "I was right."

"What?" I gasp.

"You do have a pair on you." He rolls my balls between his fingers, and I chuckle softly before spearing my tongue into his mouth.

As we devour each other, his firm hand engulfs both of us and starts pumping. Slowly at first, then with increased urgency as our hips start to rock back and forth. My cock is sandwiched between Aiden's own and his fist. The delicious push and pull of our frotting has my heart beating to an accelerated tempo. Breathless grunts punctuate each thrust of my hips as I rut against him, chasing the high of release.

I'm vaguely aware of the echo of sex drifting through the woods around us, the occasional glance from other horny coeds looking for their own spot to get it on. I wouldn't classify myself as a voyeur or an exhibitionist, but in this moment the atmosphere adds to my excitement, building my impending release. Especially when I notice a particularly solid guy glance in our direction for a moment too long.

There's something vaguely familiar about him, but before I can place what it is, Aiden's grip gets tighter, faster, and I'm once again lost to my bliss.

As I careen toward release I have a brief moment where I wish this sensation could last longer. But my dry spell has left my body ill prepared to hold out, and I'm in no condition to prolong this encounter. The best I can do is save face and hopefully boost Aiden's ego.

"Fuck you're good at this. I'm close. Too close," I mumble against Aiden's lips.

"Yeah?" I hear the pride in his voice.

"Get there with me. Hurry." I punch my hips forward, hoping the feel of my cock sliding against his will take him over the edge.

It does.

No sooner do I start to pulse in his hand, I feel him spilling over both of us. Foreheads pressed together, our chests heave as we try to breath through our release. A strained grunt passes through Aiden's lips before he brings them to mine, kissing me through the aftershocks. Once again, it's a little aggressive, but my body is too sated to object. I just go with it.

Once our breathing returns to normal, Aiden releases our shafts and wipes his hand on his pants. "I don't have anything to clean up with." He gives me a shy smile.

"That's okay. I should probably head home anyway. I'll clean up there."

"There's usually a party here every weekend." Aiden tucks himself away. "You should come by again."

"Yeah. Sounds good." I do the same, pausing awkwardly when I'm decent. Back home, before my untimely outing, I had a regular hookup. Someone I thought I had a rapport with, at least enough so that I didn't question what to do afterward. We'd just share a brief kiss that was the equivalent of ‘until next time' and go our separate ways.

Aiden must sense my confusion, leaning in to place a quick peck on my lips. "See you around, Liam."

"Yeah. See ya."

I walk around the side of the house instead of trying to go back through it, retracing my steps until I'm back at my dorm. My roommate still isn't there, so I shower quickly and climb into bed, replaying the evening, which certainly made up for the shitty start to my day.

Aiden's nice. Decently cute. Not someone I want to get involved with I don't think—it's my first night here, first year—so a boyfriend isn't on my radar. But physical contact definitely is, so he might be worth seeing again.

I drift off feeling almost content for the first time in years.

That calm is shattered when a giant weight falls on me without warning, forcefully driving the air from my lungs. As I fight for breath, I hear a startled cry, and the weight disappears as a heavy thud echoes through the room, followed by a faint rustling.

"What the fuck?" I reach for my bedside lamp, and my pleasant mood once again turns sour.